1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14the best of all things to an end must come
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